Dont read this, this is just for stories i want read

tear you apart

Parties like this weren’t exactly George’s style. Sure, he loved a good get together, a party that got a little reckless, maybe.

But this was just ridiculous. Especially since George had already had his fun for the night. He’d already gotten himself dangerously high and dangerously drunk hours ago, and everything was finally coming to a halt.

Except the fucking party.

The walls were practically stretching from how packed the house was. Sweaty bodies and the overpowering stench of undigested alcohol stung at his nose like acid, threatening to churn his stomach on the walk to the front door.

Heavy bass poured from the speakers— his speakers, mind you, that had been hijacked by some jackass earlier that night— and pounded the puzzle pieces of his brain out of order. It was like a hot soup filled his skull, swirling his vision as it sloshed around inside.

Walking through big, thick plumes of smoke didn’t help George’s comedown, either. It kept his brain buzzing as he stumbled past people and the bright red cherries at the tips of their joints. And fuck, that last cloud was strong.

He needed fresh air— quick.

Swimming through the sea of people left his clothes a bit disheveled, the sleeve of the tight cropped tank he wore was halfway down his shoulder by the time he saw a clearing near the door to escape to.

The moment George’s hands gripped the knob, ripping the door open ready to stumble his way down the steps, he was met with an obstacle that bumped against his face. Nervous, George lifted his gaze slowly, and was greeted by a face.

Some guy was at the door. Well, calling him ‘some guy’ was a modest statement.

His skin was sunkissed and splattered with a mess of freckles that disappeared under the sleeves on his biceps and the collar of his plain shirt. Big arms that bulged with muscles were crossed over his torso, accentuating his chest just a bit through the thin fabric.

Bright colorful lights bounced off the guy’s face and traced the outlines of his cheekbones and nose and eyebrows. They were all perfect, by the way, and it wasn’t just because George was slightly under the influence. His eyes were pale, but George couldn’t exactly pick out if they were blue or green or gray in the constant shifting light. The deep blue of the night sky above them didn’t help, either.

All George knew was he could get lost in them.

And he was.

“Is this your party?” The man’s voice cut his fuzzy thoughts off.

His voice was gruff and sounded annoyed, but George could tell it was just because he was mad. It was probably beautifully mellow and bright when he wasn’t steaming at the ears.

“Hello?” He repeated, exasperatedly waving in front of George’s half zoned out face, “What, you can’t hear me? Are you high or something?”